


you love love love

by end_thistragedy



Series: take me higher than i've ever been [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/end_thistragedy/pseuds/end_thistragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn considers going to Paris. Or Sweden. Or California. Maybe somewhere in the Midwest where he could live lowkey and undetected. Someplace where no one has any idea who he is or who he once was. He could start over. He could be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you love love love

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've been writing this for at least a year and then I abandoned it to write other fics which I also may have abandoned? But this is apart of a series that seems necessary atm so I wanted to go ahead and post it because it was important to me when I wrote it and it's even more important now. Hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> title and inspiration from of monsters and men's "love love love"

Zayn considers going to Paris. Or Sweden. Or California. Maybe somewhere in the Midwest where he could live lowkey and undetected. Someplace where no one has any idea who he is or who he once was. He could start over. He could be happy.

But he's not that brave.

Instead he locks himself in his room and pretends he's on an island. Pretends he doesn't have food or water. Pretends he has the ability to keep his brain quiet, to stop his mind from consuming him entirely.

He's got a nice, comfy bed that he lies in for three days straight.

There are knocks, he knows. Hears someone letting themselves into his apartment and pattering around. Hears the soft knock on his bedroom door and sinks further into his sheets. There are texts. Calls. But he can't bring himself to answer them. Doesn't know how to explain himself. Doesn't really understand the feeling he's been having for awhile that he must have managed to stave off, because it's only just now fully consumed him.

Liam had left messages periodically the first two days, asking if Zayn was feeling sick, offering to make him soup and bring it over, offering to call his mother, worriedly questioning whether Zayn was alive.

He wasn't dead, but.

No.

He was being dramatic. And that only made the heavy, nearly suffocating feeling in his chest even worse. The thing is: it wasn't just the kiss. He's not that emotionally anchored to Liam. He can't let himself be that pathetic. It was just--it was everything. It was built up anxiety and crippling sadness over the last decade of his life that he'd never allowed himself to really feel. The kiss was just a trigger. One that he wished he could've controlled before it was too late.

The third day he receives a series of texts from Louis.

_heard you were poorly need anything?_

_why aren't you answering yr phone_

_zayn_

_Payno says you're freaking him out but he tends to overreact_

_I know you're reading these idiot try turning off your read receipts if you want to pretend you're ignoring me_

_you're not responding to niall and harry either?_

_stop shutting us out_

_ffs malik at least talk to ME_

_are you going to make me say it_

_Zayn!!!!!_

_you're scaring me_

The last one came in a little under an hour ago while he was sleeping. He lets his thumb hover over the white keys for a moment before sighing and clicking the phone off.

\--

He wakes up randomly in the middle of the night to his phone flashing in his face. He curses himself for turning on the LED flash. He'd thought he'd thrown it clear across the bed, but remembers sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning in a literal way he hadn't thought was an actual thing that people experienced, not an exaggeration.

It's a text from Niall. Sent at half three in the morning.

_sat here thinking about you ! Can't sleep , driving me mad miss you !_

Zayn stares at the text. He feels something in his chest tightening. He considers sending a _:)_ in response for so long that he falls asleep with his phone in his hands, his screen going dark with the message unsent.

\--

He takes a shower on the fourth day, standing under the spout with the heat bearing down the back of his neck.

He sends a group text to Louis, Niall, and Harry. An empty _im ok_ that receives a bunch of sad faced and angry emojis from both Niall and Harry and a worried _call me when you feel like you can_ from Louis.

He leaves his phone on his bedside table before he decides it's time to leave his room.

There are leftovers in the fridge that he doesn’t remember being there before that have a note on top of them. _We get it you need space but please eat and drink water take care of yourself!!_ It’s signed Li  & H, and Zayn regrets giving Louis the second set of his apartment keys if he was just going to pass them around so carelessly.

Zayn balls the note up and tosses it in the vicinity of the trash bin.

He stays in the apartment. Reheats the leftover stir fry and hopes to disappear into the couch as he tries to get his mind to focus on the passivity that watching television requires and not the overwhelming feeling that he's a disappointment to the people he loves.

\--

It's not a surprise that Louis comes over. Zayn's avoided him long enough and probably deserves whatever Louis will shout or more likely throw at him.

He's not feeling one hundred percent better, but he figures he can be. He can't feel any worse.

When there's a knock at the door, Zayn opens it without a fuss because he knows Louis won't actually force him to talk about it. Just glare at him and call him names until they're hugging and then pretending like neither of them are crying. He'll wait until Zayn is ready.

The first thing Louis says is, "You look like regurgitated shit."

Zayn laughs. And Louis smiles back at him. And it's easy.

Louis spends an hour lying on the couch with his patterned sock clad feet in Zayn's lap as they watch Inbetweeners reruns until Louis has had enough and forces Zayn to take a shower.

Zayn eventually falls back asleep after a half assed shower and a pathetic spoonful of cereal that he pawns off on Louis. Falling asleep was a huge mistake, because when he wakes up, Harry is there. Singing Boyz II Men in his kitchen.

Harry and Louis are loud, Louis shouting the lyrics as Harry sings purposefully off pitch. Zayn reluctantly rolls off of the sofa and nearly drags his feet into the kitchen. He wishes he still owned his lacrosse stick, he can think of a few ways to use it at this moment.

It's an unfortunately pleasant sight, he hates to admit. Harry's standing over the stove with steam rising up into his face from a pot, and Louis is at the counter, cutting up pieces of raw chicken. It smells like a number of spices and Zayn's traitorous stomach growls. Kebabs. Zayn was a sucker for Harry's kebabs.

He clears his throat loudly, to get their attention.

Harry's voice cuts off in the middle of the chorus of End of the Road. He grins at Zayn, ungodly cheeks dimpling, "He's awake!"

They both cheer, making Zayn wince at the jarring volume of the voices. They'll never stop being terrible together. He'll never get sick of it.

"Welcome to our 90's singalong. Any requests or complaints go straight into the bin where they will be taken into careful consideration." Louis explains.

Zayn folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the wall, hoping to send a clear message that he's not impressed. "Why are you still here?"

Louis says, "Why do you think?"

"You called Harry?"

"I was hungry. Harry likes to feel useful." Louis responds, like that's a logical explanation as to why they're currently in Zayn's kitchen.

"You have your own place. Why couldn't he cook you dinner there."

"Because my place doesn't have a self-deprecating best friend sulking on the couch, does it?" replies Louis. "Be a little bit more welcoming, yeah? Harry's cooking enough for days and you're going to sit and eat it. I won't say it again."

Zayn knocks his head back against the wall and groans. He hates it when Louis gets all parental on him. "You drive me crazy."

"Good. Then I'm doing my job right." Louis says, infuriatingly. "Now either join our singalong or take your soggy mood back to the couch. We won't have it here."

"It makes the vegetables sad." Harry adds very seriously, pouting down at the mixing bowl of assorted chopped vegetables in his hands. "Look at them weeping, Zayn."

"Fuck's sake." Zayn rolls his eyes, trying not to be endeared because he's supposed to be pissed off at these idiots, not insanely grateful for their unrelenting presence in his life.

\--

Zayn texts Niall.

_Where are you?_

He hasn't seen Niall in a little over a week. That's become a slight problem for him. He's restless, itching to see his best mate. They've been texting, Zayn finally opening himself up to willingly communicating again. But texting isn't enough. Niall's been distant, making excuses to not come over, laughing off Zayn's teasing and questioning about him going ghost with an unnecessarily long _ahahahahahaha_ over text.

Zayn probably deserves it--for putting distance between them first. For not letting him in, for pushing him and all of them away.

It's just that---Niall is uncomplicated. Niall is easy. He's simple. He's steady and anchoring. He's home.

And Zayn really needs to see him.

 _watchin the match_ , comes Nialls reply.

Of course he is, Zayn thinks. There's always a match and Niall is always watching it, tweeting mostly nonsense about it to his hundreds of followers--all of which he probably knows and is on friendly terms with.

_you alone?_

_yea_ and then _: come drink w me_ comes a second later.

Zayn ignores all the parts of his mind telling him to stay imprinted on his couch and texts _ok : ) x_

He reminds himself that he needs this. He needs Niall. He needs the one who will make him feel safe, warm, and content.

Zayn can see Niall through the window in a booth that faces away from all televisions and feels that confusing and familiar tug in his chest he gets when he sees Niall. He'd hoped Niall had just grown tired of the game instead of sacrificing his viewing for Zayn's sake. Zayn feels quite terrible. And selfish. He always runs to Niall when he feels shit. Niall listens with an unbiased, nonjudgemental ear. He's the only one who will put up with Zayn's drunken ramblings about Liam. He's always there. Whenever Zayn truly needs him to be. Zayn wonders when he has time to take care of himself. He wonders if Niall's absence in the past couple of weeks was because he was tired of picking up pieces of Zayn and trying to put him back together. Niall was always sacrificing for others, putting himself last. Zayn admires him, but he wishes he'd learn to think of himself. He wants Niall to be strong. He _needs_ Niall to be strong.

Zayn contemplates for an entire minute, staring at Niall and feeling like a burden, before he hears a voice that sounds suspiciously like Louis telling him that he's an idiot.

He curses the voice and shakes himself out before he walks into the bar, knocking his knuckle against the lip of Niall's backwards cap. "Hey, Ni." His hands are shaking.

Niall uses the hand not loosely holding his phone to fix the hat on top of his head, and he's smiling--that unnecessarily bright smile that he can never seem to tone down. It's blinding. And everything Zayn needs. "Hi, d'you want food? I'm starving."

"You could've eaten." Zayn says, matter-of-factly, trying to calm his mind down, suppressing the thoughts that are screaming at him that he's being an inconvenience.

"Nah." Niall says, "Could wait. I wanted to see if you wanted to stay here or go somewhere else."

"Here is fine," Zayn says, not wanting to completely take over Niall's night, "I want to drink." He says, "A lot. But you eat."

"Um..." Niall looks guilty, hesitating, "Sorry bro, but I've been told to make sure you're eating. And to not let you refuse." Niall waves his phone, indicating he'd received a text concerning Zayn's well-being. Zayn is going to kill Louis. But reminds himself to text Louis and thank him later. "I'm gonna order nachos."

"Fine." Zayn says. "And a pint."

"Pints!" Niall cheers, eyes already shining, "Pints for days!"

\---

They shouldn't have ordered so many pints.

"He's a fucking idiot." Niall's saying, downing the remainder of his drink and wiping his mouth. It's a lovely mouth, Zayn thinks, and blinks hard until that thought goes right away. He's so confused.

"No." Zayn remembers to speak. His head feels heavy and light at the same time and he tries to focus on the heavier sensation because it's numbing and he wants to stop thinking, stop hearing those intrusive thoughts that are ripping him apart. "Me." He says, "It's me. I'm the idiot. I shouldn't have--" he stops. "Fuck. Niall--it hurts." He pokes a finger in his own chest, hopefully indicating just exactly where the pain is.

Niall's hand moves like he's going to reach out and touch him but stops short, falling to the table. He lets out a breath.He knows this isn't about Liam. Zayn forgets that Niall can read him like an open fucking book. "I'm sorry," He says, and looks like he doesn't know what else to say, helpless. He knows Zayn inside and out. And he usually knows what to say. But this is...

Zayn understands. This isn't something that Niall can smooth away, he can't make Zayn better and it's unfair for Zayn to have expected so. If Niall were feeling like this, Zayn wouldn't know how to remedy the situation either. He'd probably take Niall out and get him plastered until he forgets.

He breathes out, and it sounds pathetic.

"I'm tired."

"And drunk." Niall concludes, unhelpfully and he does that stupid fucking smile again, but it's faint and almost self-deprecating. "Come on. Let me take you home."

\---

They catch a cab and Niall helps him out of the car because he's good, he's so good at everything, at existing, at walking and talking and he knows how to handle his alcohol. He's the expert at it. Zayn just loses all of his coordination and inhibitions and ends up stumbling around like a fawn and saying stupid things he'll probably regret. Liam always says he has that in common with Harry and Louis is usually the one encouraging them.. The last time they all went out together, Liam and Niall had to drag Zayn and Harry from where they'd climbed on the tops of precariously crafted tables to sing and dance to Jessie's Girl. After putting on a rather spectacular show where Harry let the final button loose on his shirt and Zayn pulled the hair tie off his top bun and let his hair free, Niall decided they'd better go when Harry shouted at Zayn that they needed to get rid of their shoes and Zayn had nodded seriously and explained to the boys that they didn't need them anymore. Zayn was tossed over Niall's shoulder and Harry over Liam's as they continued to proudly shout the wrong lyrics changing "girl" to "shoe" as Louis led them all out of the club, laughing so hard that he threw up against the venue's brick wall.

Zayn giggles at the memory, snapped back into the present at the sound of a door slamming shut.

Niall grabs his arm and pulls him up onto the sidewalk and laughs--that laugh that literally sounds how it's spelled. It shouldn't be endearing, but it's more than. It's full of so much life. Zayn wants to drown in it. "You're a shit drunk." Niall tells him, because Zayn just gets lazy and heavy and giggly and sleepy and dopey and all of those dwarves.

"I'm not." Zayn retorts and straightens up a little to prove Niall wrong, but Niall's too busy paying the cabbie and being genuinely friendly like he is and Zayn blames the way his eyes trail down Niall's back on his fatigue, drinking in the way the pale blue shirt hugged his frame. He was so tired and Niall was so--

Zayn remembers Niall taking him home after the club, carrying Zayn's shoes because Zayn refused to put them back on, remembers seeing Liam and Louis drag Harry in the opposite direction, Harry yelling across the street to say he fucking loves them so much. He remembers climbing on top of the wooden crate that may have held bottles of wine at one point and he remembers Niall's laugh, his pull on Zayn's arm, his giggling when Zayn refused to get down and instead begged Niall to come up. Their combined weight made the crate give in, only Niall's foot getting stuck while Zayn had fallen over backwards into the sidewalk. Zayn remembers Niall's cackling laugh, loud and vibrating in his chest, remembers Niall begging him to stop complaining and threatening to write to the president of the United States about the quality of wood of a crate they'd found in the middle of the street. Zayn remembers staring at Niall's foot in the crate and then staring at his own shoeless feet and giggling until he was clutching his stomach to ward off the pain.

Zayn remembers feeling light, feeling happy. He hopes it wasn't just drunk happy. He really really wishes it had been real.

"Have a good one." Niall bids the cabbie a farewell and Zayn blinks and Niall is in front of him, fucking smiling. The feeling in Zayn's chest is back, that incessant warm tug. He's drawn to it. Niall's got the look in his eyes that he had that night. That drunken shoeless night and Zayn recognizes it. Its fond. Niall looks at him _fondly_. How did he not see this. "You're completely fucked." Niall tells him, smile fading to a smirk, one that warms Zayn's insides.

"No." Zayn says, then, for some reason, and he takes a stumbling step forward and kisses Niall right there on the sidewalk.

Zayn pictures fireworks. He sees stars. He sees lighting. He sees the sun. Niall's lips taste sweeter than Zayn expected and those lost inhibitions make him reach his hands up to hold Niall's face by his unexpectedly defined jaw.

He's surprised, but extremely pleased when Niall makes a noise but doesn't immediately push Zayn away and curse at him and leave him standing alone on the sidewalk to wallow in self pity and regret. Instead, his hands come up to loosely grip Zayn's forearms, his thumb tracing streaks into Zayn's skin, while Zayn mimics the movement on the smooth skin of Niall's jaw and cheek.

It feels amazing. Zayn feels alive.

Niall pulls back first, but not far, his fingers still tracing random shapes into Zayn's skin, Zayn's hands still holding Niall's head in place.

Zayn shivers.

"Is this really a good idea?" Niall asks, quiet and breathless to which Zayn shakily replies, "The best."

He licks his lips, still tasting Niall's sweetness, and Niall follows him inside where they kiss until Zayn forgets what pain feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
